


(sexy)Back in the Saddle

by hoosierbitch



Category: White Collar
Genre: Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Dom/sub, Kink, M/M, Porn, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-05
Updated: 2010-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoosierbitch/pseuds/hoosierbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless, shameless riding!porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(sexy)Back in the Saddle

"I'm tired, Neal. It's been a long day." He ran a slow hand through Neal's hair, smiling fondly down at him. "So why don't you just ride me?"

Neal pulled off his cock - a string of saliva stretch from the head to his bruised lips - and glared at Peter, spread out on the couch like a Roman emperor, lazy, languid, dripping hard. He stood up slowly. He was already naked, but he made it as much of a tease as he could - pinching his nipples, stroking his stomach and cock, behind his balls, to the hard plastic plug that had been torturing him all day.

He eased it out of his ass and straddled Peter, his knees sinking into the cushions, tensing to keep his hole tight so that none of the cum Peter'd left there earlier would drip out. He braced himself on the back of the couch and moaned at the feeling of Peter's cock rubbing against his hole, the smooth friction of skin on skin.

He reached back to guide Peter in. It was hard to get leverage on the couch - Peter's dick was so fucking long, the couch cushions not giving him enough support - he had to strain to get it positioned under his hole, and when he did he couldn't help but sink down too quickly for comfort. "Fuck," he moaned.

"Yes," Peter hissed, one hand on Neal's hip and the other tangled in his hair, pulling him close. Peter didn't kiss him - couldn't with Neal's teeth bared like they were (god, the stretch of him, like it would never end). He had to force himself down - being in control of it just made the burn that much harder, that much more real.

He gasped when he got all the way down and felt the Peter's pubic hair against his thighs, rested for a breath on Peter's legs before Peter pulled his head back and fucking laughed at him. "Too much for you, baby?"

Neal levered himself up and dropped back down, unable to stifle a gasp at how instantly full he was. "You wish," he gasped, repeating the motion and trying for the little circular twist that drove Peter crazy - but then Peter's hand turned gentle in his hair and pulled him close for a kiss (for a swallowed gasp when he started thrusting his hips, counterpoint to Neal's movements).

Peter started pushing his tongue into Neal's mouth, licking at his teeth, mimicking the motion of his dick rubbing up inside him - like Neal's body was made for him to open and use and Neal - Neal moved faster, moaned louder, rested his head on Peter's shoulder and ground himself down to get every last inch of Peter inside.

"Can't you - go any - faster?" And Peter smirked when Neal growled and moved to brace himself on Peter's shoulders instead of the couch, trying to inch his knees closer together. He paused as long as he could lifting himself up, the head of Peter's cock right at the tightest part of him, gasping his laughter when Peter lost his composure.

"Poor old man. Too worn out to fuck - " and Peter grabbed his balls, pulling him back down, rolling them between his fingers with a smirk. Again and again Neal would lift up, and Peter pulled him back down, a painful tug-of-war, and Neal dripped precum all over Peter's hand. "Let me - let me - "

And Peter surged up underneath him, one arm around his lower back to pull him closer in, the other fingering Neal's hole - oh, god, he pressed a finger in (Neal was sloppy wet with lube and cum, fucked open from wearing the plug all day). Another finger and Neal was barely lifting up more than an inch but the friction was incredible - he let go of Peter's shoulder, grabbed his cock, and came - writhing on Peter's cock, biting Peter's shoulder to muffle his surprised cries. Only Peter's tight hold around him kept Neal steady, held him upright, kept him completely speared on Peter's dick.

"Keep going," Peter said, and Neal just whined into his mouth, trying to kiss the request away. "Or are you too old and tired for that?"

There was that damn smirk again. And Neal, who could never say no to a challenge, pushed Peter back against the back of the couch, cradled his dick as tenderly as he could, and started fucking himself on Peter's cock as roughly as his tired thighs could manage. And Peter bit at his lips and pulled his hair and squeezed his ass, no need for another finger because the painful pressure of Peter's dick against his oversensitive prostate had him as tight as he'd been that morning, before Peter'd fucked him in the bathroom and worked the plug inside of him and kept it in all day.

"This - fast enough?" And he finally managed the twist of his hips that made Peter gasp and lose the tempo (still meeting with every thrust, never could let Neal have the last word). "Come on, Peter," and Peter grabbed his balls again to pull him down (pull him tight against Peter's groin he could feel Peter come, deep and wet inside of him - he squeezed and came and Neal sobbed into his mouth, trying to get away (but keep Peter there, right there, inside of him and under him and holding on so tightly). Peter, who usually managed to keep quiet, yelled and bucked underneath him.

"Perfect," Neal whispered when he fell back against the couch.

Peter smiled and Neal kissed him lazily before retrieving the plug. He'd be wet and open and ready for the next round, and this time, Peter was going to have to do all the work...


End file.
